


Fantasy Free Me

by SueDeeNimh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Assume Everybody Switches; We Fuck Like Men (But Offscreen), Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Fade to Black, Faeries Made Them Do It, Humor, Incest, John Winchester Lives, M/M, Multi, No underage, Non-Abusive John Winchester, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Supernatural Spring Fling, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SueDeeNimh/pseuds/SueDeeNimh
Summary: Freeing a fairy trapped in the Bunker has repercussions when the fairy is insistent on balancing the books—whether Sam and Dean want their darkest fantasy to come to life or not.





	Fantasy Free Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you BlindSwanDive for being so wonderfully enthusiastic about this fic and betaing for me! And thanks to my gift recipient, Chiliscale, hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Prompt: _Graveyard shift._

It was after midnight and Dean was antsy. He’d left Sam sprawled and sleeping to go poke around an uncatalogued storeroom; despite how many years they’d lived here, there were always more secret basements filled with crap waiting to kill people.

The buzzing jar matched his wound-up mood perfectly. It was an old gallon-sized glass covered with a dark cloth, but light shone from within it as soon as he lifted a corner. The muffled angry buzzing intensified, rising and falling, oddly familiar. 

It was a fairy. He’d recognize those shitstirrers anywhere. He whipped the cloth all the way off. 

“Dean?” Sam called from the hallway. “What are you doing in here at this time of...” He trailed off as he caught sight of the little sparkly man standing about a foot tall in the jar. Or at least he’d be standing if he stopped vibrating around the inside of the jar like an angry hummingbird. “What is that?”

“Fairy,” Dean grunted. “You can see him? Huh, I guess he probably wants you to. No telling what the Men of Letters did to him. Why would they have a fairy stored in here?”

“Because they were assholes,” Sam shrugged, staring fascinated at the jar. “What are we going to do with him?”

“What the hell do you do with a fairy?” Dean let bafflement show for an instant before he caught Sam’s smirking look. “Oh hell no, we’re not going down that road!”

Sam was doing a poor job of suppressing laughter, shoulders shaking. Sam had always had a dirtier mind than was good for him. “We can’t just leave him here indefinitely,” he said, too reasonably. 

“He’s pissed, look at him,” Dean countered. “If we let him out, he’ll just take all that anger out on us.”

The buzzing in the jar faded abruptly, and the little fairy settled on his feet, glaring up at them with his arms crossed. 

“He understands us,” Sam said, willing to be enthralled. “Maybe we can make a deal.”

“Because deals never go wrong,” Dean said. He was regretting having gotten out of bed. Bed was cozy and boring and had had Sam in it, whuffling into Dean’s hair. The fairy stared him down. “Fine. If we let you out, you do us no harm and go straight back to your own realm. And don’t bother us again. Sound good?”

The jar abruptly shattered, and the fairy rose with a whistling shriek into the air. “As payment for services rendered, I shall make your deepest, darkest fantasy come true,” he said, perfectly intelligibly.

“Wait, no, that’s not necessary,” Sam said, looking deeply alarmed.

Dean was too busy trying to figure out what his darkest fantasy would even be. It was a safe bet nothing he and Sam had already done, together or apart, would clear the bar. That left just the options he really did not want happening in real life for a variety of excellent and practical reasons.

The fairy just surveyed them scornfully. “I will not live in debt. You will not be harmed. And I am not some sugar-sweet _good_ fairy, to reward my dungeon-keepers with fair frolics on the beach.” And with a sound like a giant’s clap it was gone, a few dark trails of glitter settling gently out of the air.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. “Well, crap.” Dean said with feeling. 

“Did it mean one fantasy, or one fantasy for _each_ of us?” Sam asked hollowly.

* * *

They had no idea when the fairy’s ‘reward’ would kick in, so they went to one of the spare bedrooms no one used because of the weird stains, figuring it wouldn’t be much of a loss if it got trashed. Sam tried to open up a conversation about what kinds of dark fantasies they had, on the grounds that it was better to be forewarned, but Dean refused on the grounds that he didn’t want to know. 

In any event, the fairy was back in under an hour, with an even louder _crack_ and a large man in tow, who stumbled, caught himself, and then turned to face them.

“Dad?” Dean gasped, feeling like that long-ago truck had just hit all over again. They’d just been through this, Dad appearing out of nowhere, one perfect family dinner, and then gone again. This was too...

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam snarled suddenly, lunging forward: but it was too late. The fairy zipped back out of range and threw a large purple potion vial, which smashed against the door to the room, dripping and fizzing down onto the concrete floor. Ominous purple vapors started to fill the room.

There was no exit to the room other than that door. Damn underground living anyway. Dean pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth and glared furiously at the fairy.

“No grudges, now,” the fairy leered, looking way too pleased with himself. “After all the trouble I had to go through to find his soul and whip up a body for him, I’ll let you keep the man after the potion runs its course; it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. Wham, bam, and you’ve got the rest of your lives together.”

Dean had the awful feeling he knew exactly where this was going. He’d never met a fairy that wasn’t sex-obsessed, and he could feel the dark clouds of the potion shivering through all his nerve endings. His dick started to chub up. “You’re gonna pay for this,” he snarled up at the fairy, even as Dad asked, “Dean? Sam? What’s going on?”

“You can keep him, that is...unless you try to track me down afterwards,” the fairy clarified, looking like it was enjoying their discomfiture. “Then he goes back where he came from. Don’t be mad; you should really thank me for a deal working out this well.”

“ _Thank_ you? For thinking up this...fucking _travesty_?” Sam yelled at the fairy, but it popped out of sight again. Sam looked miserable, and also edible. 

Dean shook his head, but the thought didn’t dislodge; it repeated itself. Sam looked edible, and Dean wanted to run his tongue down the line of his neck to where his clavicle jutted out of his shirt. Had they been alone, Dean would have done it already, but he cast an agonized glance at Dad. When Dad had been alive they’d taken the utmost care that he never found out what his sons got up to between the sheets. 

“You may as well,” Dad said, unexpectedly resigned. “Angels were dicks enough to give me a few scenic tours away from the ‘life’s greatest hits’ album heaven kept playing.” Bitterness was in his voice. ‘Why the hell I was in heaven if I raised you two that perverted, I’ll never know.”

“Great,” Dean said, going on the offensive to cover the sick swooping feeling of all his nightmares coming true. This was supposed to be a _fantasy?_ “Fuck you too, Dad.” He took two steps over to Sammy and brought their mouths crashing together, a wildness filling him. Like he’d ever wanted Dad to see this, to see him debauching his little brother, for Dad to know there wasn’t ever going to be anything he could do to tear them apart. His days of being the dutiful son were over. He’d paid that bill in full and didn’t owe any more. And Sammy tasted so sweet, mouth opening to eagerly accept Dean’s tongue.

Dad made a sort of pained groaning noise, but Dean didn’t turn to look at him. He was searching out the little gasps he could wring from Sam—like this, yeah, fingers trailing under his shirt—and the aphrodisiac’s effects hummed through him with every pump of blood. _Let_ Dad watch, let him see Dean take Sam _apart_ , let him see Dean fuck his little brother open on his cock and then bend over and let Sam crack him open and raw and begging for Sam’s dick. Sam would make him, too: he could be so sweet sometimes, so giving, and then turn around and demand the world from Dean.

Dean gave it, every time, no matter what Sam wanted. Even this time: was this Sam’s dark fantasy, or his? It didn’t matter. He could feel Sam’s dick, hard against him, as hard as his own. Sam’s hands started to scrabble frantically at their clothing, _off, off_ and their kiss broke and broke again as they panted and undressed.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Sam said, standing naked, hard and proud, looking over Dean’s head. “You can enjoy it. You don’t have any choice but to enjoy it.” He dipped his head to kiss Dean again, sensually, but Dean could tell his eyes were still looking past him to Dad. “We _want_ you to enjoy it,” he said, low, sending a pulse though Dean.

He heard Dad make another of those groaning noises, but this time he could tell there was _desire_ in it. The potion was acting on him just as much as it was on them. 

They were all so screwed. 

“Tell us what to do, Dad,” Sam said, far too cool. Impudent. He turned Dean around so they both faced John, fully naked. Sam was at Dean’s back, not hiding any of Dean’s body anymore, or how hard he was. Dean screwed his eyes shut, unable to look at Dad, shame flushing his face.

The silence dragged out until finally Dean opened his eyes and glared, defiance chasing out the shame again. Sam’s hand roamed up to play with his nipple.

“Show me how good you can make him feel with your mouth,” Dad said, hoarse, making eye contact with Dean. 

Dean nodded shortly. Just like a thousand instructions he’d gotten from Dad growing up, a thousand thousand, but this one was different. This one he didn’t have to obey. There was fire in his blood, but the potion would be just as satisfied if he pulled Sam’s head down instead, teased his cock against Sam’s ready lips. He kissed Sam’s neck while he thought about it. 

Sam didn’t push, content to let Dean set the pace for now. 

“Okay,” Dean said. “Sam, facedown on the bed.”

Sam sprawled happily, and Dean set to eating him out. He was pretty sure this still hadn’t been quite what Dad meant. Whatever; close enough. Maybe he’d let Dad fuck Sam, after he was done, if Dad didn’t piss him off in between. Sam would like that, getting to finally be a good boy for Daddy. Maybe Dean would get a piece of his own back from Dad’s ass while he did it. His lips twisted in an evil smirk that couldn’t be seen with his face mashed into Sam.

People who’d spent as long in Hell as they all had—obviously they were going to have some dark and deeply twisted fantasies. 

Welcome back to the Winchester family, Dad.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments welcome!


End file.
